


Render Safe

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Comfort, F/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Protective, Render Safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: Russell realized 'render safe' was going to mean more than a few loose nukes.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	Render Safe

“Come on, let’s go.” Russell whispered as he hooked three fingers behind Elizabeth’s elbow to guide her out of the Oval Office where she’d been pacing and gasping her way through the latest briefing. That she was so willingly compliant made him frown as the gnawing memory of her standing in her dim kitchen, looking but a shadow of her normal self, stormed through his mind. “This way.” He kept his hand on her as he led the short distance up the hall to his own office. “We’ll get Henry out.”

“Yeah.” She paced the length of the room away from him, one hand lifting to touch her forehead and then hover and dance aimlessly out in front of her face as she turned. He could see the questions twisting through her mind, the worry that built with each new bit of bad news, each unanswered call.

“Excuse me a moment.” He slipped out the other door, giving her the room as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number for the umpteenth time since it’d been he receiving a warning call that a chinook had arrived at the base sans a very specific, and necessary to their immediate stability, person. “Blake, it’s me…. Yeah… I’m going to put her in her SUV and send her back, she’s…” He sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling, unseeing. “Still no word on Henry, I’ll keep you posted. Just… do what you do and keep an eye on her.” He listened to Blake’s assurance that he’d be ready and waiting when she arrived.

The call disconnected and Russell rubbed his free hand over his head before stepping back into his office. “There’s nothing more you can do right now, Bess. I’m sorry. Why don’t you head back to your office and try and take-”

“If you’re about to tell me to take a break or- or do breathing exercises or something, Russell, while my husband is stranded in- in a country on the brink of collapse-” The next gasp cut her off completely as she pitched forward, hands gripping the back of a chair.

“Look…” Russell moved to her side. “I’ll keep the pressure on for ex-fil. There’s nothing more to do right now. Just… Go back. Have a change of scenery. I’ll personally make sure you stay updated.” He touched her elbow again to start guiding her along. “Come on.” Slowly, they found their way through the building and he guided her clear to the open car door. “I’ll keep the pressure on to get Henry out.”

“Thank you.” He caught her reply before the door thunked shut. As he watched the SUVs pull away, he thought to himself that there were a lot of ways this disaster could play out, many of them not good.

Barely an hour passed before Russell found himself making that same call again. Under normal circumstances, he’d love getting the needle a rise out of Bess’s assistant if for no other reason than it irritated her when Blake got so worked up… But today… today he was reminded with every soft-spoken call just what it was that the younger man brought to his job. “Blake, it’s me again. I need her back for the, uh, for the situation room…. No word on Henry. No, no, the situation is about Render Safe… I’m sorry it’s not better news…. Look… You make the call, but maybe consider riding over. Adele can get you set up to work from my office or something.”

Another beep of an ended call. Another weary sigh.

For the first time in a long time, Russell found himself praying.

=MS=

Russell was certain there was a threadbare path now worn between the Oval Office, the situation room, his own office, and the conference room Bess had been sequestered in by her attentive assistant. He’d complain about the added foot traffic, but he was equally a contributor today.

The afternoon had worn on with him relying more and more on Blake to run interference and field problems as they waited for nukes, and Henry, to be found. Russell found himself with a fresh appreciation for the young man’s quiet demeanor and laser focus. There was a single-mindedness there that he’d never really paid attention to before and now, amid this layered crisis, Russell was never more grateful.

“When she’s off the call with China, I need her again.” Russell whispered, craning his head up to see Blake’s face. “How’s she doing?”

There was a guarded look to him. “I think she’s okay. She needs to sleep, but all other fronts seem to be managed.”

It was cryptic, but he picked up the general gist- Bess was hanging on, but only by a tenuous thread… And probably only because Blake was actively ensuring that last thread didn’t fray. “Thank you.”

“No pr-” Blake cut off, shaking his head. “Let’s focus on getting Henry home.” He chose instead.

Russell had to agree. It was a problem. At some point, even their joint efforts would fail and there was a chance it would happen while home and country were both still in the midst of descending into shambles. They had different priorities, different concerns. He was focused on the wide arching repercussions of missing nukes while Blake… Blake was clearly thinking of the destruction that would lay claim to his boss if Henry weren’t brought home. “I’ll find you again as soon as I’ve talked to her.”

“Yeah.”

He watched Blake turn back down the hall before calling out again, curious. “Blake… How are the kids holding up?”

Russell knew in an instant that Blake had an answer, and it answered another thought that had drifted into his mind. While Bess was here, Blake was the one managing the world beyond her immediate attention and today, that meant the kids. “They were told he’s in San Diego, so they don’t know he’s in danger. So, she’s afraid if she goes home, they’ll catch on something is wrong. There is a small issue I’ve been dealing with at Alison’s school, but I believe I have it under control and the other two… Well, no news is always good news though I’ll be doing my normal check in on her behalf later today.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

=MS=

“Come on.” This time it was aimed at Blake as he’d been walking down the White House hallway, not Bess, and the only real difference Russell noted was that the impending panic attack was not happening to the person before him. “We know where Henry is, a plan is in place to pull him and the others out. It’s a lousy plan, but for now, he’s alive.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t look any better for that news. Plans are under way on all fronts right now and we’re in a holding pattern. Take her back, do whatever assessment you do.” He glanced either way along the hall they were stopped in.

“Of course.”

Russell started back toward his office and stopped again. “And… maybe don’t let her too far out of your sight.” Not that he doubted now that Blake would allow Bess to wander too far, but he knew her well enough to know she had a tendency for slipping away unseen when the urge struck. For someone who could fill a room with so much passion much of the time, she could slip through the world unseen when she put her mind to it. ‘Spook’ to the fullest expanse of the term.

But even the best spooks hit their limit and crumbled.

=MS=

“I finally got her to sleep.”

Any other day, Russell might’ve laughed at the absurdity of the comment, whispered quickly in the halls outside the Oval Office. Today, however… today he only frowned. “Where is she?”

“Your office. Sorry. She’s asleep at the table which, I know, isn’t the best place, but if it stays quiet, she’ll still get maybe even a few hours there.”

“What worked?”

A ghost of a smile flickered past. “Chamomile tea and a medication negotiation that made me wish I was haggling with Russia instead.” Blake whispered. “Frankly… I totally get why other countries give in to her.”

Any other day, he might have laughed at that too. “Thank you. Why don’t you take a break, get some dinner. I’ll keep watch for a while.” When it looked like he was about to object, Russell shook his head. “I’ve got it. I promise.”

“If… Call me.”

“You’ll be the first one I dial.”

“Thank you.” As Blake slipped away, Russell headed for Adele’s empty office and sat down to work from there.

Two hours managed to pass before Russell had to call Blake back, sharing quickly and simply what progress was being made and that, hopefully, Henry would be collected shortly. There was no time to wait for him to return before waking Bess. Blake would have to play catch-up with however things played out.

=MS=

Russell felt no relief until Henry’s face appeared on the video in the chopper and his voice filled the sit room via speakers. Henry was alive and reasonably safe. He finally let out the breath it felt like he’d been holding all day, hanging his head before finding a small reserve of energy to look up and find Bess among the men in suits and uniforms.

To the untrained eye, she simply looked relieved her husband was coming home, but to him… To someone who’d been there before, Russell knew he was looking at her façade beginning to crack. Weaving his way between people celebrating success, Russell drew her attention yet again. “Hey. Come on.” He was certain she only looked as held together now as she did because Blake was able to pull off that negotiation only a few hours ago. “Let’s take a walk.”

“Yeah.”

As soon as they were in the hall, Russell shot off a quick text, adding another prayer to his day for her assistant to be back from dinner by now. “He’s okay, Bess. He’s coming home.”

“He’s okay…” The inflection on the first word told him she didn’t think she was okay, and he started to ask, but then he caught Blake approaching from the far end of the hall. “Looks like Blake brought you dinner.” He paused as her step faltered slightly when she noticed the other man walking their way.

“I’m not hungry.” She started without preamble once he was close enough.

Blake’s gaze darted to him and Russell nodded with an encouraging look; communicating that all was well, on the Henry front at least.

“Henry’s on his way home.” Blake assured as if he’d already known it. “Perhaps we can skip a proper meal this once and I can dig up some dessert.” Russell watched as he studied his boss’s face. “I’ll go down to the kitchen and see what they have on hand.”

He caught her frown and looked back to Blake, who almost seemed to expect the slow change in her demeanor.

“Maybe they have what you need for one of those things the girls make?”

“I’m sure they do.” Blake’s hand came up and he moved to her side, guiding her with it resting between her shoulder blades back toward his office.

Russell stayed rooted to the spot until the younger man reappeared again several minutes later. “She should head home. We’re… there’s nothing more for her here tonight.”

“I know. She’s gathering her things; I was just coming to tell you.”

“What’s…” Russel huffed. “What’s next?” He didn’t even fully understand the question he was asking, as he was asking it. He knew what his own PTSD looked like, his own panic attacks. He knew how exhausting they could be and how wrung out they left him. He also knew that the one person Bess relied on, turned to, was another twenty-four hours away from holding her in his arms.

He looked at his shoes, hands shoved in his pockets, and for a moment, Russell thought to himself just how worn Blake appeared. Finally, he turned his face back up to him. “She wants to go back to her office first… It’s going to be another long night.” His eyes drifted to the office door as it opened. “I’ll talk to you Monday.”

“Yeah. Good night.” Russell shoved his own hands into his pockets. Bess appeared, her coat on and bags in her hands, which Blake relieved her of, shifting everything to one arm before using his free one to guide her away.


End file.
